Parallel Universes
by MissJesselle
Summary: The five Universes in which It didn't really happen and the one in which It did. "It" referring to full-fledged K/S.
1. Chapter 1

**The Five Universes in which "It" Didn't Really Happen and the One in Which "It" Did**

**#1**

'**JUST FRIENDS ??? YEAH RIGHT.**' the big title on the cover of the archaic glossy-paper magazine read. It had been slipped under the door to his quarters and was still lying on the floor, all innocence and nonchalance. Spock was looking down at it, wondering at the folly of making the title letters take up almost the whole upper half of the page.

He picked it up, deciding he might as well examine this last human traditional magazine, the only one left of the thousands who had completely transferred to electronic versions. This one apparently still had enough devoted readership who were willing to buy the expensive printed copy and keep it circulating in the old-fashioned way. He was intrigued by what its contents were that they merited such unswerving support.

Well, and he was also intrigued by the photograph underneath the title which pictured himself and Captain Kirk regarding each other. This naturally explained why a member of the crew thought it fit to deliver it to him, Spock mused, although he still did not understand why they did not simply do it in person and preferred to cram it into the tiny gap between the sliding door and the floor.

Spock sat behind his desk with the magazine, resolved to subject it to closer scrutiny. Beneath the photo there was written in a smaller font: _Starfleet Captain KIRK (35) and First Officer SPOCK (35) exchange one of their infamous strictly heterosexual LOOKS. Come on boys, get out of the closet already! Read more on page 6._

Bewildered, Spock did as he was told and set to reading the suggested article.

_They may be renowned for the brave feats they keep accomplishing left and right during their missions for the Federation, but there is only one thing that REALLY interests us, isn't there. What wouldn't we give to be inside the U.S.S. Enterprise and see for ourselves what the TRUE RELATIONSHIP between James T. Kirk and S'chn T'gai (read 'see change team gay') Spock is!_

__

Because we all have seen the numerous SEXUALLY CHARGED glances they cannot help but give each other even during official ceremonies. We all have seen the numerous FLEETING TOUCHES, haven't we? And why do they always stand SO CLOSE together? Leaning toward each other? Can't they get enough?

Well wouldn't you just like to know? Wouldn't you just like to put an end to all the speculations and know for sure? Guess what! WE ALREADY KNOW and are eager to share our findings with you. We bring you this EXCLUSIVE FIRST-HAND INFORMATION from an insider of the starship Enterprise who wishes to remain anonymous.

"Long story short, yeah, it's all true. They are f--king," the kind Anonymous informs us in laconic words and then elaborates: "Like at work we see that they just can't keep their hands off each other. Especially Kirk. He keeps just grabbing Spock or brushing against him. And Spock totally lets him. And you know Vulcans don't like physical contact."

Unless it's with your sensuous human LOVER, right, Spock? But wait, that's not all our reliable source tells us:

_"And off-duty they just spend all the time in one of their quarters. Like seriously all the time. So I think it's pretty obvious what they do in there. It's common knowledge to everyone onboard that they are shagging like bunnies and it's really become a kind of a running joke."_

Spock quirked his eyebrow in disbelief and irritation, but nonetheless finished the last paragraph.  
_  
So, try as they might, it seems like the appearance of JUST FRIENDS just won't work for these __two, will it? Maybe that's because it's all PRETENSE AND LIES. And WE KNOW. And now YOU know, too. EVERYBODY KNOWS! So why do you keep on playing this farce, boys? We LIKE IT when HOT MEN have lots of HOT SEX and admit to it! Just do us a favor and OUT YOURSELVES before it gets embarrassing._

Well, that was … enlightening. Spock shook his head slightly at the utter misguidedness of the short text. The author seemed to try to persuade the readers that they had a real account of his and Captain Kirk's relationship. Spock sincerely doubted that any of the crew members would actually give them such an interview about their superior officers – firstly, they were deep in Space and only sparsely stopping at Federation outposts or civilized planets, and secondly, the implication – that they engaged in sexual intercourse on a regular basis – was laughably incorrect.

Or 87.9 % incorrect. They had engaged in sexual intercourse once. It had been a most regrettable action as it simply did not work. Neither of them had any desire to reprise the unsatisfactory experience and so they agreed on simply continuing their friendship, pretending it had never happened. And good friends they were. But nothing more.

Of course they spent a considerable amount of time together – that was only logical since they were the two highest in Command on the Enterprise. And as for the touching… It was Captain Kirk's natural inclination to establish tactile contact with everything and everyone in his vicinity and was certainly not limited to Spock. Concerning the 'looks', Spock was at a loss as to what this referred to. He suspected that it was simply a case of 'seeing what you want to see' which he had discovered was evidently inherent to humans.

All in all, Spock at least broadened his knowledge by learning what type of information interested Earth's people the most. Misinterpreted half-truths, sensational exaggerations and illogical conjectures. Fascinating._  
_

*********

*********

_Yes, drabbles again. I just can't seem to be able to write anything longer. Oh well._

_Please review._

_And I still don't own Star Trek._


	2. Chapter 2

**#2**

"Kirk! Spock! Stop it!" the little girl with ponytails bent down to the cage and gave it a shake. But the enraged guinea pigs inside didn't seem to notice. They kept running around and squeaking, occasionally launching an attack at each other. The shavings were flying around them, the water bottle they had bitten through was dripping, the little wooden house overturned and pissed on and hay scattered all over the place.

"Alright, that's it. The damn gerbils are out of here," the girl's father stepped into the room, taking charge of the situation. The 'gerbils' in question nonetheless continued wreaking havoc in their own little rodent way, happily oblivious to the threat.

"_Noooo_, Daddy!" the girl whined theatrically. "They just need to get used to each other."

At that, the beige guinea pig started chattering its teeth ominously. The man approached the cage and frowned at the pets in undisguised disgust.

"They smell."

"No, that's not _trueee_," the girl looked affronted. "I will change their bedding, I change it every week."

The man just shook his head.

"It teaches me responsibility." the girl pointed out reasonably.

Meanwhile the beige guinea pig butted its head into the black one which in turn grumbled and attempted to mount its adversary and bite its ear. Another skirmish ensued.

"We should have bought just one," the man said, frowning at the contending rodents. "Pick one, I'll just go return the other. The woman in the pet shop lied to us anyway when she said they wouldn't fight."

"No, Daddy, _pleeease_, I want both."

"Well, they're just gonna kill each other if we keep them together," the man resisted."Let's keep this one," he pointed to the beige pig, "the red eyes are cool."

The little girl considered her options for a while and then she simply opened the cage, reached inside and unceremoniously grabbed the black guinea pig before it could realize what was happening. She stood up, holding it in both hands and lifted it up close to her father's face.

"Look how cute he is. We can't just give him away."

Black beady eyes looked back at him. The animal twitched its whiskers and sniffed at him with its little nostrils.

"Alright, alright. We'll keep them both," the man not unexpectedly gave in to the pleas of his little girl. "But we'll get another cage."

"Thank you, Daddy," she said and when her father bent down to her, she kissed his cheek.

Thus the next day, just as the beige and black guinea pigs were enjoying a quite moment of grooming each other's fur and purring in satisfaction, a dark shadow loomed over them and a rough big hand descended on the beige one. It gave a shriek of alarm and scurried away - but since the space it could move on was rather limited, it was eventually caught and carried across the room to a brand new cage that would be occupied by it alone.

So, no more close interaction for these two little guys.

//////

_I suppose nobody's seen THIS coming, right?_

_Please review._


	3. Chapter 3

**#3**

When Spock finally arrived to her Starfleet dormitory, it was already long past curfew. The door whooshed open and she quickly reached for the control panel inside, switching off the automatic lights so as not to wake her roommate. As quietly as she could, she took out her datapad from its case and plugged a back-up drive into it. Late as it was, she had no intention to risk losing any files she had recorded during the daylong research. She began to undress, careful not to produce any sound.

By that time, however, her eyes had already adjusted to the darkness. So she realized that all the precautions against disturbing Jamie had been unnecessary, seeing as her bed was still made-up and very much empty.

Although not entirely unexpected, the absence of her friend was still somewhat … disenchanting. She had hoped that perhaps Jamie would – would what? Stay up late into the night so Spock could share her today's scientific discoveries with her? That would have been illogical. Jamie was a very sociable creature and she was at liberty to do anything she liked with her time and it was not rightful of Spock to have unrealizable expectations.

She finished undressing and went to take a shower, hoping that the flow of water would purge her of all the unwished-for emotions of disappointment and frustration. Realistically, though, she did not believe she would succeed in this effort.

She had just slipped under the sheets, prepared to make herself sink into 200 minutes of sleep despite all the persistent discomfiting thoughts, when the dormitory door slid open for the second time that night and a dark outline of a hand snaked inside, feeling the wall for the light control panel. But the perceptive sensors picked out the movement and started to gradually brighten the room – until Jamie hit the correct button and all was submerged in darkness again.

Spock lay still and watched the dark figure tiptoe across the room and -

"Ow!"

- collide with a chair. Jamie cursed under her breath, outstretched her arms to prevent butting into any other objects and slowly made her way toward the bathroom.

"I am awake," Spock announced into the silence.

Jamie stopped in her tracks, turning in the direction of the voice. "Oh, are you having fun then? Watching me fumble around like an idiot? _Lights!_" There was genuine irritation in both her tone and, as soon as it came into view, her face. That dispirited Spock considerably more than was logical, although she doubted she was the real cause of the annoyment, more likely just the convenient receiver.

Jamie made no more comments and disappeared into the bathroom. Spock stared onto the brightly lit ceiling, listening to the sound of running water, wondering about – far too many matters.

When Jamie finally emerged again, there was not a single hint of negativity about her demeanor.

"Sorry about before," she said, squinting slightly into the brightness. "_Less lights_." The artificial lighting obediently dimmed. "Sorry about _that_, too."

"That is of no consequence."

"It's not about you, you know," Jamie continued, not seeming to register Spock talking. Then her apologetic expression hardened momentarily, "It's about that _fucking bastard_ Gary." She crossed the room and sat down on Spock's bed, placing her hand down where Spock's hip was underneath the covers. There it was again. The touching.

Jamie smiled: "You know I like _you_."

Spock shifted minutely away from her, fearing that their closeness would incite further tactile communication. And it did.

Jamie reached out and caressed Spock's hair, twirling her fingers in it. Then she gently traced the contour of her face.

Spock forcibly restrained a shiver. Whereas with anyone else it would have been a manifestation of her Vulcan sensitivity to touch and her natural reservedness, in this case there was another reason. One that she did not dare contemplate for too long.

"So, what did you do today?" Jamie asked, her voice soft. And before Spock could react one way or another, she leant down toward her and lightly kissed her cheek. It left no time to even begin thinking about suppressing the fluttery feeling that ran through Spock's body following that.

Jamie straightened back up almost instantly, but Spock doubted she had missed her quiver. Or was it not as physical as it felt? Uncomfortable, she lifted herself into a sitting position and did her best to answer in an even tone: "I carried out several experiments pertaining to my dissertation work." Despite the effort, she could hear herself sounding strained.

Jamie meanwhile returned her attention to Spock's hair, running her fingers through it. "Really? I thought you already had like three times more than what's required," she said absently, looking away and frowning a little.

After a while, she seemed to have reached some kind of conclusion because she suddenly fixed her eyes with Spock's and a grin spread across her features: "Well, would you like to continue?" she asked, her eyes glinting. "With the experiments, I mean."

"I am afraid I do not fol -"

But her words drowned in the mouth that had pressed against her own, boldly and confidently. She froze, feeling their lips touch, hers hot and rigid, Jamie's fresh and pliant. Her brain shut down and she could not bring herself to think or move or do anything at all.

The contact was broken as abruptly as it had began, Jamie simply pulled away and now it was _her_ turn to appear nervous, "Uh, sorry. I guess that was a little … yeah," she mumbled and made as if to get up and leave.

Spock brought herself back to her senses and seized the only opportunity she may ever have before it was too late: "Wait."

Jamie dropped back down on the bed and faced her friend, with obvious curiosity and what Spock hoped was renewed interest in the progress of the situation. Spock hesitated for a little longer and then self-consciously brought her hands to Jamie's face and closed the distance between them.

So their lips connected once more, but this time it was fueled by mutual responsiveness. Not to mention eagerness and – pervasiveness. Their tongues met and they sucked and tasted each other. The kiss was long and thorough are very wet and Spock thought it would last forever – or _hoped_ it would last forever.

But all things end and so did this one, however unique and unreal it seemed to Spock.

Then they just sat there, gazing at each other. Spock had again no idea what to do – or think or feel, for that matter – the experience had been too intense.

"Well, I guess we've had it coming," Jamie made a fake little laughing sound and quickly got up and hurried to her own bed where she began distractedly wrapping herself into the sheets, "Sooner or later we would have smooched anyway. Might've as well gotten it out off the way, right? _Lights off_. Good night."

There were no 200 minutes of sleep that night; not even 20 or 2. Spock's mind was far too preocuppied with dozens of contending emotions which she could not manage to sort out, let alone shut down. All the same, there were three particular inquiries she kept posing to herself and could not arrive at a definite answer to:

Would it ever happen again?  
Would Jamie, all of whose actions had been so confusing and contradictory, reciprocate her desire?  
And would Gary, Jamie's current boyfriend, surrender his claim for her?

At that time, Spock had no way of knowing that the Future held the least desirable turn of events because _it_ would not, _she_ would not - and although _he_ would, others would take his place.

*****

_Thank you, Reader, please review._

_*****_

_This turned out angstier than I had intended it to be._

_Also, I spent ages deliberating what Jim and Spock's name would be if they were girls. I went all the way from Jacqueline and T'Pock through the ridiculous Jimelle and Spockette (the dancing cabaret duo :) to the simple Jamie and Spock._

_Because although Jacqueline --- Jacques = James, the only short form I can think of is Jackie which obviously connotes Jack rather than Jim. And while many Vulcan female names begin with T'P-, there are exceptions, like Saavik and Valeris. The name Spock, when you dissociate it from the masculine manly man actors, seems pretty unisex to me :) _


	4. Chapter 4

**#4**

The door to the Captain's quarters slid open and a dark figure entered, glancing around to ascertain there was nobody else in the room.

Suddenly the figure straightened, listening intently: there were footsteps echoing in the corridor.

"Something wicked this way comes!" it muttered and swiftly hid behind a thick red drapery.

Soon after, the door slid sideways again and two people entered.

"Something is rotten on this ship," the one in blue complained.

"To me Enterprise is a prison," the one in gold agreed.

"Why then your ambition makes it one. 'Tis too narrow for your mind."

Then the two of them matter-of-factly headed for the bed and sat down on it, facing each other. They joined their hands.

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?" the gold one declaimed heartfeltly, looking into the other one's brown eyes. "Thou art more lovely and more temperate -"

Alas, the romantic moment was not to last. Having decided that his target was sufficiently distracted, the assassin leapt out from his hiding place, his cloak billowing open and revealing a red tunic underneath.

"Off with his head!" he bellowed, undermining his statement by waving a short dagger which was not the most ideal instrument for such a procedure.

He nonetheless launched at the gold one and stabbed him.

"Et tu, Scotty?" the victim wondered with some bitterness and died. The red one laughed triumphantly.

"O villain, villain, smiling, damned villain!" the blue one lamented.

"Out, damn'd Spock! Out, I say!" the red one ordered him, indicating the door. Whether he really intended to spare him or not, he clearly had not expected the swiftness with which the blue one extracted the dagger from the gold one's chest and thrust into the red one's.

"I am slain!" the red one announced and collapsed, dead.

Seeing no reason for continuing his existence without his friend and lover, the blue one took hold of the dagger once more:

"O happy dagger! This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die." He declared and let the weapon sink into his heart.

And that was it for that night.

- - - - - - -

- - - - - - -

_What? An Evil Universe where everybody quotes Shakespeare? Totally _could_ happen._


	5. Chapter 5

**#5**

On Stardate 2273.21, the Federation exploratory starship U.S.S. Endeavour entered the orbit of a small planet named Erratis IX. It was covered predominantly by tropical grasslands and its inhabitants were, according to the Compendium, peaceful and primitive. Despite the early stage of its technological development, Erratis was a member of the Federation.

For one prosaic reason: it held vast resources of Kryptonite, one of the hypersonic series elements. It was not being mined there yet because of the planet's faraway location, but empires had been built and galaxies colonized by using the simple art of thinking ahead.

"We have been ordered to beam down to Erratis IX to attend a brief diplomatic meeting with its rulers to ascertain that their friendly relations toward the Federation have not been modified during the 132.72 Erratis years the planet spent in isolation from any external contact," Captain Spock recorded into his log, "we are, however facing one significant complication: none of our crew speaks the Erratian language and the universal translator cannot be applied due to the specific compartmentalization of the Erratian brain which dilutes the brainwaves and prevents them from being analyzed."

*

"We're just gonna have to use some kind of sign language, I suppose," Spock's First Officer James T. Kirk suggested, as the two of them made their way through the tall yellow grass toward the Erratian village. As their purpose was merely to meet the elders and assure them that the Federation still existed and had not forgotten about Erratis, they were the only members of the landing party.

It seemed the only problem they would have to deal with was communication difficulties, which looked laughably trivial compared to some of the downright catastrophic scenarios they had been involved in in the past.

And even this trivial problem disappeared completely when one of the half-human-sized, six-armed, three-eyed, bluish beings that had come out to welcome them stepped forward and produced from what appeared to be his mouth broken, most strangely accented but still quite understandable words in the Federation's lingua franca: "Daddy of Daddy of I work with you Feds guys. Daddy of Daddy learn Standard. Daddy learn Standard. I learn Standard."

Soon afterwards, Spock and Kirk found themselves crammed in a small hut, sitting down on the floor very close to each other and engaging in a diplomatic small-talk with the 'Eldest of Eldest.' The Standard-speaking Erratian who had introduced himself as 'Huiiiiiii' functioned as an interpreter.

"_Ask them what their names are and who their fathers' were,_" the Eldest of Eldest said to Huiiiiiii.

"Who you guys be. Who you guys Daddy be," Huiiiiiii translated.

"I am the Captain of the starship U.S.S. Endeavour which was commissioned to undertake a second five-year mission under the supervision of Starfleet and in the service of the United Federation of Planets -" Spock began but then Kirk interrupted him:

"You do realize he won't understand a word you're saying?"

"I am exerting my best effort to deliver accurate information to the Eldest of Eldest. It cannot be done in any alternative manner."

"Yeah it can. If you just said 'doing' instead of 'exerting', 'say' instead of 'deliver' -"

"I cannot agree with your reasoning. It is quite necessary to select words which _precisely_ convey the desired meaning or I would be deliberately misleading my conversation partner."

"Can't you hear the way he speaks? He doesn't know any of your big words, he won't have a clue of you're chattering on about."

"First of all, the fact that his ability to _express_ himself in Standard is rudimentary does not automatically preclude the possibility of his having a considerably more advanced grasp of the language as a passive listener. Secondly, I refuse to relay to any one a consciously distorted message, however minor or otherwise the alteration may be."

Kirk regarded Spock for a moment and then, with an air of having concluded that it was a lost case said: "Alright, Captain, do as you like. Just let me speak to him as well so I can give him a gist of what the hell you're saying."

"I do not believe that ..."

As Spock and Kirk continued to exchange their opinions, the Erratians observed them with interest. After all, it did not happen every day that weird-looking overgrown aliens appeared out of nowhere behind your house, invited themselves in and then pretty much ignored you in favor of their own little argument.

"_What are they talking about? Didn't they come to speak to me?_" the Eldest of Eldest asked Huiiiiiii after a while.

"_The pointy-eared one doesn't speak Standard very well. He keeps using words from different languages_." Huiiiiiii replied.

"_Can't that interplanetary organization of theirs bother to send competent people? What about the other one?"_

_"He speaks a little better but he has serious problems with grammar."_

_"Dear Gods, what amateurs. Oh well, just get them talk to us for a change so we can get this over with._"

"You guys talk with Eldest Eldest?" Huiiiiiii addressed the arguing duo. They quickly stopped talking and turned to face him.

"I apologize but a there was a matter of concern regarding the communication method we needed to address first. Please proceed with your inquiries and we shall attempt to reply to the best of our ability," Spock said.

"Sorry. Ask questions now," Kirk said.

"_They say that they are ready to talk to us now,_" Huiiiiiii translated for the Eldest of Eldest.

"_Ask them about their names and the names of their fathers, then."_

"Who you guys be? Who you guys Daddy be?" Huiiiiiii repeated the question he'd attempted to open the discussion with.

This time, Kirk hastened to answer: "This is the Captain, his name is Spock. His Daddy's name is Sarek. I am James Kirk, his friend, and my Daddy's name is George Kirk."

"_Pointy-ears is called 'Is' and the other one's 'Am'. I didn't catch the fathers' names, shall I ask again?"_

_"Never mind. Ask them whether the agreement between us and their organization still stands," the Eldest of Eldest cut straight to the chase._

_"Deal with Feds guys good?"_

At that, Spock launched into a long-winded, very detailed description of the Federation's plans for the future and reassured the Erratians that their planet was definitely still a member, albeit an inactive one, and that their time to shine would come. With Kirk's help and Huiiiiiii's imagination the general sentiment ('yeah, deal good') was conveyed at last and that might have been the end of it, hadn't it been for the Erratians natural hospitality.

"You stay night? Night soon. Day short."

Spock and Kirk looked at each other, but if they weren't too excited about spending a night in a tiny unsanitized hut, they didn't let it show.

"That would be a pleasure," Spock said.

"Yes," Kirk said.

"_They agreed._" The Eldest of Eldest was clearly satisfied with the quick answer.

"_Ask them whether they want to sleep in the same hut or they'd rather if each had his own._"

"You guys sleep together?"

"No!" said Spock.

"Yes," said Kirk.

They exchanged a look. And then another.

"I think he was just asking if we wanted to sleep in the same place, Captain," Kirk explained.

"Indeed? The expression appears at the least ambivalent. You yourself repeatedly inform me of how important it is to heed secondary meanings -"

"Yeah, I know, but judging from the level of his Standard I don't suppose he's quite there yet," Kirk cut off him. "I think he is pretty literal."

"Ah ... yes. That is a logical conclusion," Spock conceded at last and then turned to Huiiiiiii: "Yes."

"_Yes,_" Huiiiiiii translated.

"_What took them so long to decide?_" the Eldest of Eldest asked.

"_I'm not sure, but they sure do keep arguing like an old married couple._"

"_Yes, you're right, it looks like that. Well, now that I think about it, there obviously is sexual tension between them. It'd be interesting to find out what their relationship is," the Eldest of Eldest mused. Then his curiosity got the better of him: "Actually, go ahead and ask them. Be subtle._"

"'Is' like 'Am'?" Huiiiiiii asked.

"I apologize but I do no understand, your wording was most incomprehensible. Could you please rephrase you question?" Spock said.

"What's like what?" Kirk said.

Huiiiiiii pondered their answers for a moment and then presented his best guess to the Eldest of Eldest:  
"_They are in love with each other but it's complicated."_

"_Why? Doesn't their culture accept homosexuality?"_ the Eldest of Eldest wondered.

"Feds not like you guys?" Huiiiiiii wondered in Standard.

The question seemed to render Spock momentarily speechless – he couldn't see why anyone would doubt the Federation's satisfaction with their faithful service - so Kirk replied:

"Sure they like us, they wouldn't let us fly around in starship if they didn't."

"_They have their culture's blessing._" Huiiiiiii passed on the information.

"_Does that mean they are married?_" The Eldest of Eldest asked, intrigued.

"You guys legit?"

"Of course!" Spock and Kirk said in unison, Kirk becoming also bothered by the sudden lack of trust from the Erratian side.

The conversation ended soon after, with Spock taking off his Starfleet badge and ceremoniously presenting it to the Erratians. They carefully inspected it, taking it for a symbol of their marital commitment.

Later, the two visitors were shown to the hut where they were about to spend an uncomfortable night trying to sleep on a rug laid right over the hard ground without much room to stretch. They lay with their backs to each other as there really was no reason to do otherwise.

The Erratians, however, were left with quite a different impression.

*****

*****

_Thank you, Reader, please review._


	6. Chapter 6

**... and The One Universe:**

"Spock, are you asleep?"

The whisper was amplified by the hollowness of the cave. For that was the place where they'd found shelter after the shuttlecraft crashed and a magnetic storm prevented them from being beamed back up to the Enterprise.

Two years had passed since the Narada Incident and many things changed in that span of time: their relationship progressed from that of necessary collaboration in dire circumstances through efficient professional partnership to rather close, if still competitive, friendship. This latest arrangement entailed gaining good knowledge of each other's individual idiosyncrasies. Like for instance the ability to spot the difference between normal and feigned pattern of breathing.

"Spock, are you _faking_ sleep?"

There was a rustle of a sleeping bag as the convicted party turned to lie on his back and a low voice echoed throughout the cave: "No ... but I _am_ attempting to sleep."

"Ok. Sorry."

Silence ensued. But sleep did not. They both lay still, staring into the impenetrable blackness all around and listening to the eerily resounding _ploink ploink ploink_ of dripping water coming from somewhere deep within the cave.

After some time a very low whisper cut through the silent darkness:

"Spock, unless you're asleep, would you please pass me the flashlight?"

There was no answer, but instead the rustling again, then the sound of a zipper as the other individual freed himself to reach out, a faint beep of an electronic device starting up and finally, a circle of yellow light fell onto the rugged roof of the cave. The illuminated chinks in the rock and the protruding stalactitic formations seemed large and frightening. The pool of light moved away, traveling slowly across the ceiling until it rested upon a comparably flatter part.

Dark ominous shadows suddenly loomed in the lit circle – until their contours came into focus and it became apparent that they were only fingers. Two of them straightened and the rest folded into a loose fist, creating the shape of deformed scissors or perhaps even a disfigured animal head with long ears.

"Look!" one of the voices instructed the other with some enthusiasm. "Now guess what it is."

"Shadows of your fingers projected by the flashlight onto the rock surface above?"

"Well, yeah, but what's this shape? What animal?" The two outstretched fingers in the shadow display stirred impatiently.

The question was followed by what was presumably quiet contemplation and then at last a hesitant answer:

"This shape does not recall any creature, living or dead, that I am familiar with."

"Sure it does! It's a rabbit! I mean, you must have seen a rabbit before – at least in ZOO or something? Ok, never mind, try this one." The circle of light twitched as the flashlight was repositioned so that its holder could use both of his hands and – on the lit-up spot there appeared a shadow of wrists laid across each other with thumbs hooked and the remaining fingers spread out like a fan. "Don't tell me you can't tell what this is."

"A … cephalopod? With severe genetic malformations?"

An exasperated sigh: "_No_. A _bird_. Don't you have any imagination? You need it to play this game."

"Do I? Does the essence of success in this endeavor not lie in one's competence to recreate a real form with his hands in such a manner that necessitates _minimal_ imaginative input from the observer to correctly discern what it is intended to portray?" A short pause to let the elaborate argument sink in and then: "Please hand me the flashlight."

The illuminated circle swayed and broadened as the source of light shifted and there was a muffled thud and it disappeared completely for a moment -

"Sorry, I didn't realize you were so close."

"That is of no consequence."

- and then it reappeared on the cave roof and centered onto the least rugged place. Shadows of fingers once again came into view and they effortlessly formed into the desired shape. This time there was no doubt as to what it was supposed to be.

"_This_ is a rabbit."

"Wow, that's pretty cool, how did you do it?"

"And _this_ is a ..." the inquiry was ignored in favor of resettling the flashlight and using both hands to outline the distinctive graceful form of a - "bird."

The sentiment of 'and that's how you do it' was far too obvious to be uttered aloud.

Silence that may have been awed as well as affronted followed, disrupted only by a soft click as the flashlight was switched off and everything sank back into complete darkness. Then, finally, a reaction came:

"You just have to always try and beat me in every single fucking little thing, don't you." No sign of bitterness in the tone, it was mere stating of facts. Although it was probably meant only as a rhetorical question, it _did_ earn an answer:

"Yes."

Afterwards, nothing was said for a long time. Minutes passed.

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

The water dripped. And then it dripped some more, at the same long, steady intervals.

_. . . ploink . . . ploi -_

"Is it just me or do you also feel … restless?"

"Well, it is true that I … cannot deliberately bring myself to sleep and that is most unusual for me. Is it the same case with you?"

"Yeah."

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

"It must've been the berries."

"The berries? You said you recognized them."

"I did, but – I know the kind that grows on Earth. It could've been imported here but it could as well be a totally different species that just looks the same."

"That is sound reasoning. Whether they did or did not affect us in this unforeseen manner, it was highly inconsiderate to ingest them."

"Yeah."

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

"They really have weird effects – the berries. If it's them."

"They may have contained a psychoactive substance that influences our consciousness. As I said I am experiencing problems in controlling functions I am normally able to master quite efficiently. For instance I seem to ..."

"What?"

No answer.

"Spock, what?"

"... This all is a condition of increased alertness. We simply need to wait until it passes."

"Yeah."

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

"Like on me, one of the effects is that I'm getting all kinds of crazy thoughts."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed."

"Would you like me to give you the flashlight again so you can entertain yourself to pass the time?"

"Nah, I think I'm past entertaining myself with shadow animals, Spock."

"Indeed?"

"Indeed." There was a pause and then the same voice asked: "Are you smiling now?"

"Why would I do a thing so uncharacteristic for someone who observes the Vulcan tradition of emotional suppression?"

"I don't know … it's always fun to think what people do at night when nobody can see them."

"Is it? Well, what do _you_ do?"

"Oh, you don't wanna know. Besides that's not the point. You just have to guess. Use your imagination."

"You implied that I was not in possession of one."

"I guess I must have been just teasing you then, Spock. I just hope your imagination isn't as vivid as mine is at the moment, 'cause it looks like I'm on the verge of – or actually, never mind."

"I am afraid I do not follow you."

"You're not supposed to, either."

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

"There are other things besides playing with a flashlight we could do, you know. And we won't need light for them."

"Given that both of us still appear to be suffering from the fruit's arousing effects I would be amenable to such a proposition. What activity in particular did you have in mind?"

A soft laugh vibrated through the stillness of the cave: "Sometimes I honestly don't know whether you do this kind of thing on purpose or not."

"Would you care to be more specific?"

"No, I don't think I would, I don't wanna embarrass myself in case you didn't mean it."

"Meant what?"

"Spock, you really are the last person in the Universe to be persuasive in playing stupid so please don't do it."

"I take that as a compliment."

"That's what it is."

_. . . ploink . . . ploink . . . ploink . . ._

"Jim, would you agree that tomorrow shall be a particularly demanding day as we will most likely be beamed back up to the Enterprise where many urgent responsibilities will no doubt have accumulated in our absence and these will require our immediate attention?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"And do you also agree that we should do our utmost to remove whatever complications may compromise our tomorrow's working efficiency?"

"Yes."

"And do you also believe that there exists an easy way to alleviate the effects of the berries that prevent us from enjoying a proper night's rest?"

"Yes."

"It is then necessary that I inform you of having derived a logical solution to our current situation."

"Have you? What is it?"

"It is in fact rather elementary. I am astonished by your not having suggested it sooner. Unless, of course, you have been manipulating me throughout the whole course of our sojourn in this dark and secluded place into being all but forced by circumstances to present it myself."

"I would _never_ manipulate you into something you didn't want. I'm hurt and confused. Also intrigued."

"For a reason that transcends the scope of my comprehension, you clearly are very keen on my making the first move, so to speak."

"Well, I could argue that there already was a first move, or actually a series of them, in the past, but I don't really feel like wasting any more time talking."

"In that case, please kiss me."

No words were spoken for a long while following that. Instead, there was a lot of rustling, shuffling, unzipping, heavy breathing and moaning. Somewhere in the distance, the water continued to persistently drip, but nobody listened to it anymore. The various new sounds echoed throughout the cave, filling the cold and dark emptiness with unprecedentedly lively impressions of passion and affection.

After an extended period of time, though, the noises died away and silence enveloped everything once more.

Then one of the voices, subdued but contented, spoke up: "Mutually satisfactory though I surmise this activity was, I wonder who the winner is."

"What?" the other voice sounded just sleepy.

"You said – and I quote – that I 'always try to beat you in every single fucking little thing'."

A chuckle followed. "Oh, that. Well, I guess I win this round since I got you on the age old trick with the fake aphrodisiac."

"Jim, do you really think I would allow you to consume an unfamiliar fruit?" Furthermore, I assure you that I am perfectly aware of what Earth's blueberries look like, how they taste and especially that the only influence on one's sexual desire they may have consists in providing energy in the form of fructose."

The reply was a little belated and not very eloquent: "Huh." And after another moment a conciliatory: "But it got you to do what I wanted you to do, so whatever, it's a tie."

"Very well. Although you underestimated the level of my insight into your deceptive maneuvers, I must acknowledge your undeniable prowess in the enjoyable activity they ultimately resulted in."

"I take that as a compliment."

"That is what it is."

There was a yawn and a sigh and then the crackling of the nylon fabric of the sleeping bags as the two of them snuggled together. Then everything was quiet for a while, until:

"Jim, are you asleep?" It was supposed to be a mere whisper, but the cave's acoustics didn't let it.

"Um, no, but maybe I would like to be?"

"There is just one last thing."

"Does it have anything to do with you being all smug over how smart you are?" The other voice sounded tired.

"_No._ This is intended to please you."

"Oh, Ok."

There was a rustle and an electronic beep and once more, the yellow pool of light fell onto the ceiling of the cave. Shadows of long slender fingers appeared in it and proceeded to intertwine into an interesting formation.

"This is my suggestion. For our next intercourse," its creator commented.

"Ah," the other voice responded with clear appreciation. "Well I must say that's _very_ imaginative."

*****

*****

_And that concludes Parallel Universes._

_Thanks for reading, please review._


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